Cipher stood beside Black Hand, effortlessly dodging the attacks of the surrounding Lesser Devils. Every so often, she would unleash a side kick or a spinning kick, each strike felling at least five or six devils.
It was no exaggeration to say that Cipher felt like she was playing Lee Sin in League of Legends, landing every spinning kick on five enemies at once—utterly absurd.
Yet to Black Hand, her fighting style seemed anything but that of a "Thief." Instead, it resembled... a Monk?
Black Hand glanced at the shattered remains of a Lesser Devil Cipher had kicked apart, then instinctively touched his own waist. A sudden wave of belated fear washed over him. Thank goodness that Catgirl held back when we fought, he thought. If she'd landed a kick like that, I'd be in pieces too!
He now believed Cipher's earlier claim that she could end the battle in an instant. After evading a Lesser Devil's ambush and swiftly stabbing it dead in a countermove, Black Hand found his attention inexplicably drawn to the tail swaying behind Cipher. His focus should have been fixed on the remaining enemies, but his eyes kept drifting back to that hypnotic tail.
Cipher's tail swayed rhythmically from side to side as she fought, a clear sign of her ease and enjoyment.
Pfft!
Distracted for just a moment, Black Hand took an arrow to the knee. "Holy shit!"
Fortunately, the Lesser Devils' bows were in such poor condition that the wound was shallow. Black Hand quickly yanked the arrow out and refocused on the battle.
Meanwhile, Aria was clearing out the Lesser Devils even faster than Cipher, her clear voice echoing through the hellish landscape.
"Divine Smite!"
"Divine Smite!"
"Divine Smite!!!"
Suddenly, Feidric shouted, "Forget the Lesser Devils! I'll block their attacks for you, Aria! Go find a way to take down the devil himself!"
Divine Smite was draining Aria's Strength, and the longer they dragged this out, the worse it would be for her. Besides, the Flame devil had just been killed by the devils, collapsing into a heap of smoldering ash on the ground.
This meant the devil was now free to attack them directly!
Back on the Material Plane, Feidric had been able to annoy Brother Hawen because the devil's influence was limited, restricting it to low-level magic. Even the Sixth-Level spell Summon devil had only been cast after the devil possessed someone.
Now, facing the devil itself, Feidric knew attempting to Counterspell it would be futile. The devil's power far surpassed his own.
Aria obeyed instantly. The moment Feidric gave the command, she charged toward the devil. From the devil's perspective, having just finished off the troublesome Flame devil, it suddenly saw a golden-haired girl streaking toward it, leaving a luminous afterimage in her wake.
The devil froze, dumbfounded. "What the hell is going on here? How did a Paladin get here?!"
While Divine Smite was particularly effective against devils, they weren't truly afraid of Paladins, merely annoyed by them. The problem was that on the Material Plane, Paladins were the rarest of the twelve main classes, making encounters with them exceedingly rare.
The devil suddenly realized that in Chaos City, this haven for criminals and thieves, a Paladin had appeared out of nowhere. Was this some kind of joke?
Seeing the golden, gleaming longsword in Aria's hand, the devil dared not meet the blow head-on. Instead, it used Misty Step to vanish instantly, causing Aria's strike to slice through empty air. The devil reappeared behind her, brandishing a longsword wreathed in flames, ready to deliver a devastating overhead slash.
Inequality is inherent between humans, but the gap between devils and humans is far greater.
From birth, all devils possess an extraordinary resistance to fire, able to swim in lava unharmed. As they age, their Bloodline gradually unlocks a series of magical abilities.
By adulthood, a devil possesses at least the power of a Silver-tier Adventurer "Sorcerer." With their exceptionally long lifespans, ascending to the Gold-tier Sorcerer rank is practically guaranteed.
devils possessed physical capabilities far surpassing those of ordinary humans. Even without armor, their skin's natural defense rivaled high-quality leather armor, and their wings granted them innate flight.
Since magic mastery came effortlessly, most devils dedicated themselves to honing their close-combat skills. In essence, each devil was a Gold-tier Sorcerer combined with a Gold-tier Warrior.
(Human Sorcerers needed constant spellcasting to stimulate their bloodlines and gradually grow stronger. devils, however, required no such effort, their pure bloodlines allowing them to focus on other pursuits.)
On the battlefield, Aria barely evaded the devil's devastating downward strike thanks to the Haste spell.
Boom! The flame-wreathed longsword crashed into the ground with a deafening roar.
Narrowing her eyes, Aria pressed forward. The longsword in her hand blazed even brighter, transforming into a miniature sun whose blinding radiance forced onlookers to shield their eyes.
This time, the devil didn't retreat. Instead, it swiftly reset its stance and, with inhuman speed, raised its longsword again, meeting Aria's blade in a thunderous clash.
Was this an inherent weakness of the Warrior class skill—an inevitable period of vulnerability after an attack, when old strength had dissipated and new strength hadn't yet surged?
Or was it the vulnerable moment when an enemy's blow nearly knocked their weapon from their grip, throwing them off balance and leaving them wide open?
To counter this vulnerability, Warriors had developed a special technique that allowed them to swiftly recover and regain perfect combat readiness.
Boom!
The flaming longsword and the glowing blade collided with the force of a small explosion, instantly blasting both the devil and Aria backward. Though the Divine Smite's power was immense, its threat diminished significantly if the strike failed.
The shockwave left minor scorch marks on the devil's skin—superficial wounds that posed no real threat. He flapped his wings and landed smoothly.
Aria, on the other hand, tumbled awkwardly across the ground twice before slowly pushing herself up with one hand.
Crack!
A sharp, crisp sound reached Aria's ears. Looking down, she noticed a small crack had appeared on the blade of her longsword—the "Sword in the Stone" she had drawn from the village, the blade that had guided her onto the path of an Apprentice Hero.
Meanwhile, Cipher, who had been watching Aria closely, hesitated, wondering if she should intervene.
But before she could decide, a deafening roar shattered the air as Nathaniel charged toward Aria—or, more precisely, toward the devil.
He had given up trying to persuade the other Barbarians to change their targets. Instead, he resolved to help Aria against this formidable foe. Castorice's orders were clear: he was to assist Aria and her companions, and if Aria were to fall, he would surely fail his mission.
Finally, after enduring the battle for so long, Nathaniel entered his "Rage" state for the first time. However, his "Rage" was different from that of the other Barbarians. With a thunderous bellow, he cried out, "Icefield Wolf God! Bestow your blessing upon me!"
The massive wolf head tattoos on Nathaniel's chest and back seemed to come to life, their expressions turning even more ferocious. His muscles bulged violently, and his body instantly doubled in size.
His pants legs and shoes burst apart, and even the waistband groaned under the strain, threatening to tear.
Cipher's first thought was of the Hulk's transformation, but Nathaniel's skin didn't turn green. Instead, thick frost crystallized across his body, particularly on his hands, completely encasing them in ice and transforming them into two enormous claws.
Unlike other barbarians whose eyes glowed red with fury, Nathaniel's burned with an eerie blue light.
It seemed absurd that Nathaniel, a subordinate of Castorice who worshipped the Death Demigod, would invoke the name of the Icefield Wolf God in battle. If Aisha were here, she'd undoubtedly scoff, "Didn't you say you renounced the Wolf God?"
In truth, Nathaniel didn't worship the Icefield Wolf God. Just as other classes had subclasses, so did the Barbarian. Nathaniel's chosen path was the [Barbarian - Icefield Path].
In the Northern Territory, countless legends circulated about the Wolf God, such as "the first solid ice in the world" and "the world's first predator." But these were merely myths, much like the modern-day Death God. Many Barbarians devoted their faith to the Wolf God, but their prayers went unanswered.
Then, one day, someone discovered the truth: "The Wolf God doesn't need faith! He demands proof!"
To earn the Wolf God's favor and receive the Icefield Power, a Barbarian had to traverse the Northern Territory's infamous Great Icefield—at least a hundred kilometers long—on foot, clad only in meager clothing and carrying no supplies. They then had to scale the treacherous peak known as Liam with their bare hands. Reaching the summit guaranteed the Wolf God's recognition.
The Great Icefield alone was a death trap, and Liam's cliffs were so steep that the entire journey couldn't be described as merely dangerous—it was a guaranteed death sentence.
Nathaniel was the extraordinary warrior who had completed this trial. However, since this power had been bestowed by the Icefield Wolf God, he would habitually shout "Icefield Wolf God!" whenever activating his abilities, as a gesture of respect.
After completing his transformation, Nathaniel lowered himself to the ground, shifting from running on two legs to sprinting on all fours. His speed surged, each stride pounding the earth like an assault, leaving four deep furrows in the ground.
In other words, Nathaniel's speed came not from agility, but from sheer brute force. He truly resembled a predator now, lunging at the devil like a wolf.
Strictly speaking, this wasn't a true Rage state, so he didn't need to consume White Petals or lose his reason. Yet he had chosen this most primal method of combat.
"Damn it!" the devil cursed. Aside from Divine Smite, ice was one of the few elements that could effectively counter devils. As creatures adapted to extreme heat and possessing naturally high fire resistance, their ice resistance was inevitably poor.
The devil raised its flaming sword and slashed at Nathaniel. But Nathaniel neither dodged nor blocked, allowing the blade to strike his body. Fortunately, his entire form was already sheathed in thick, hardened ice, mitigating the devil's attack.
Instead, Nathaniel swung his claws with a clear purpose, seizing one of the devil's wings and tearing it off with brutal force.
Against a flying enemy, targeting their wings was the obvious first move.
At that moment, Feidric seized the opportunity and ripped open a scroll. Cipher had looted a necromancer's house back in the Grand Duchy of Kandela, acquiring a stash of scrolls, and this was one of them.
"Fifth-Level Necromancy School: Negative Energy Flood!"
Instantly, a dark green beam as thick as a water bucket slammed into the devil's back, causing it to howl in agony. Necromancy spells indiscriminately assault all living creatures.
Aria charged forward again, raising her longsword to unleash another unadorned Divine Smite.
The devil was truly having a terrible time. A Divine Smite, Icefield Power, and a Necromancy spell—all direct counters—hit him squarely.
Yet even after this barrage, the devil clung to life. It used Misty Step to distance itself from the group, its face now clearly showing signs of retreat.
None of them could have defeated this devil in a one-on-one fight (except for Cipher). But Aria's group had the advantage of numbers—it was time for a good old-fashioned gang fight!
"Damn it, you useless trash! All of you are worthless!" the devil roared at the few remaining Lesser Devils in the sky. Turning his malevolent gaze to Aria and her companions, he snarled, "You're all doomed! To hell with this! I'm done selling tickets to this dump! I've already offered this place as tribute to Grand Duke Beelzebub, and he's on his way! You're all dead!"
"Beelzebub?!" Feidric's face darkened with concern. "This is the first layer of the Nine Hells—Avernus! He's one of the five Archdukes of devils who rule this realm!"
In terms of the Material Plane, the Archdukes of devils were essentially the kings of the Nine Hells. Avernus itself was divided into territories ruled by these five supreme devils, each Archduke ruling their own domain. Moreover, the Nine Hells didn't operate on hereditary succession. The title of Archduke went to the strongest devil in each layer, ensuring that the most powerful ruled.